It is better to be eaten by a stranger than by your friend...

Yesterday was Yom Kippur. The day that culminates the High Holy Days in Judaism. It is a holiday to which I have never really connected. Also known as the Day of Atonement, Yom Kippur comes 11 days after Rosh Hashana, giving Jews a time to reflect on the past year and on the year to come. On Yom Kippur, you fast, abstaining from food for 25 hours (although I learned that the fast lasts 28 hours in Mexico and is more like 22 hours here in Israel). It is called the Ultimate Shabbat, a time to ask for forgiveness from God and from others, to repair wrongs, to generally cleanse yourself.

A few friends and I prepared the requisite big meal, but none of us had any intention of fasting. A table set with chili, quinoa, no-bake peach crumble, noodles and chicken, meat for the chili, an amazing cheese, and fruit, we sat down and ate until we could eat no more.

The beautiful dinner!!!

The next morning I woke up and realized that I was interested in fasting. Not because of any of the religious ideas - I may not know what I believe in, but I certainly know I do not believe in sins and repenting. I believe that forgiveness should not be dictated by a holiday and that the self-awareness encouraged by the High Holy Days should be present throughout the year. Moment one where I realized that I grew up in a very secluded world of thinkers: turns out that most people DON'T spend their days contemplating their existence and their effect on the world. Who knew?

I had an interesting conversation with a friend about how Yom Kippur offers us a time to think about the presence of food in our lives. Like me, he did not condone the idea of forced forgiveness or repenting for sins, but he fasted because he felt that it made him more aware of how lucky we are to have such a constant surplus of various foods.

The end of Yom Kippur celebrations. We sat and had a picnic
with this great view of the Western Wall. Most people had already
gone home to break their fast. We were late!

I fasted last year, although the day after Yom Kippur, for myself. This year, I fasted for myself again. But I did it in a country where everyone was doing the same. Even the most secular Jews were abstaining from food. Although I think I actually spent less time contemplating my influence on the world and others, I was awoken to how much I take food for granted. Normally I wake up to the sounds of my roommates in the kitchen, opening and closing the refrigerator, preparing their eggs and oatmeal and cereal and toast. On Yom Kippur, there was silence. Normally, the kitchen and the connected living room are where we hang out and catch up. But these rooms were silent the entire day. We stayed holed up in our rooms, reading, watching TV, sleeping, trying not to think about food!!!

It was not even the food that I missed. I spend so much of my day preparing and thinking about food. I am most at peace when I am in the kitchen. Even as I type this, I am watching over a pot of tapioca pudding that is to be dessert for a huge meal some friends and I have planned for dinner tonight. I am so happy when thinking about what I will be making, when I am preparing it, when I am eating it. I truly enjoy food. At the hardest part of the day, when I was ready to break the fast before we walked to the Old City with a picnic, I began to cut up mango. It was so difficult not to lick my fingers, I threw away so much food that I normally would have snacked on. But just touching and smelling the food soothed me.

The empty streets of Jerusalem on Yom Kippur. Kids ride their bikes in the street,
we walked in the street: NO ONE is out. In fact, a lot of the streets are blockaded.
But that is a topic to bring up another time...

Moment two when I realized how sheltered I am: I had a conversation with someone on the way back from the Old City. We were debating the merit of Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashana. I explained to him that I feel that forgiveness should not be forced, it should be genuine. I told him that I also think that this level of contemplation should always exist and asked if he would normally think about his place in the world in the way he was required to on Yom Kippur. He told me that he would not, that he generally takes his Rabbi's and Judaism's teaching as the end-all-be-all guidebook. This astonished me. I have been taught to question everything, to take no guidebook for granted ever. I cannot imagine living by one source. It sounded so  constraining to me, but he sounded happily grounded by it. As a religion major, this gave me a completely different, more realistic perspective on faith. As a person, it opened my eyes to the reality of human life.

Moment three when I realized how lucky I am to be so sheltered: I have existed in a world full of intellectual, curious, compassionate people who are concerned about their impact on the world and on others. I have been taught to seek out beauty and wisdom, to always try to be the best person that I can. I am also constantly surrounded by love. I carry around my keys on a keychain given to me by a friend, made because she knew that I always carry my keys that way and I would need a keychain in Israel. I carry a cookbook with recipes from different family members and friends, written to preserve their memory and to help me record my cooking endeavors. Multiple people think about me, care about how I am and who I am, miss me on a regular basis. I am so incredibly lucky.

This is a big thank to all of you. I would not be who I am today without you. I would not be able to feel so secure and so sure that there is good and love and compassion in the world without you. I hope you know how grateful I am for you!